He loved living in Staten Island, but he wasn't crazy about the ferry. Miss a
ferry late at night, and you have to spend the next hour or so wandering the
deserted streets of lower Manhattan.

So when he spotted a ferry no more than fifteen feet from the dock, he decided
he wouldn't subject himself to an hour's wait. He made a running leap and landed
on his hands and knees, a little bruised maybe, but safe on deck.

He got up, brushed himself off, and announced proudly to a bystander, "Well, I
made that one, didn't I?'

"Sure did," the bystander said. "But you should have waited a minute or two.
The ferry is just about to dock."